An Unsent Letter
by MalusFors
Summary: Claude writes a letter to Sebastian about his true feelings towards him only to never send it.


**Note: This is my first upload to . Figured I'd do a sort of drabble to kick things of I guess I should say.**

**Leave a review and tell me what you think.**

**I'm in the process of writing a longer, _mature,_ one-shot fic for Claude/Sebastian so that will be posted eventually.**

**Enjoy~**

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Dear Sebastian,

I bet you weren't expecting to receive a letter that was for you for once, were you? Especially not a letter from me that's for sure. I didn't expect myself to even have the courage to write such a thing as this had I not been driven by this feeling boiling in my veins. It runs hot in my bloodstream, every twist and turn, rise and fall. It remains. To think a demon knows something more than greed, lust, gluttony, pride, sloth, envy, and wrath, something pure and good, healthy for the mind and the soul.

It sounds silly, doesn't it? To hear a demon speak of feelings, that is. We're creatures if sin and carnal desires. We do not have feelings, or do we? Do we just suppress them? I do not know. All I know is that it's killing me, this feeling. It shouldn't though. It should make me happy, not angry and furious in confusion, nor suffering unrest. No, I should be exuberant, free on the wings of an angel, but I am a fallen one instead and cannot feel such joy. Instead I feel a variety of other things, but that will be saved for later.

Do you know why I want your master? Do you know why I want to take him from you? Why I seek him out when given the chance, watching your every move for an opening to do so? Sure, my master has given me orders, but I do not care to follow orders these days. I do not want Ciel or his soul in the least either— I care not for the boy. I need him because I want _you_. If I take him from you, you'll come after him, won't you? You'll want him back so you'll come to me to retrieve him, and I'll get to see you. That's all I want, and it's the closest thing I'll get to ever having you.

I don't want to engage in the Danse Macabre with you. I don't want to take your life. I want to be a part of it instead. I want to be the one your life revolves around, not that damned brat. You're a creature of sinful beauty and grace, a fine specimen of temptation. There's none other like you, not here and not in Hell.

You move elegantly on your feet, every footstep perfectly choreographed and placed as you stride on those long slender legs. Your body, though seen ever so briefly, is seemingly sculpted by Michaelangelo and your features painted on by Da Vinci, flawless in every way, a true masterpiece. I see your muscles flex, if ever so slightly but wonderfully so, as you carry out your master's each and every order to perfection. You are the perfect butler. You are perfect. It tortures me so to see such a being as you in the hands of someone else, someone so young, someone like him. Your master is better off in the hands of my own master, and you in mine. Our fingers were meant to entwine like the threads of a web, our bodies meant to fit together like puzzle pieces, and our lips meant to take the floor in a dance together. As a demon, I know about you than these mortal beings ever will— your strengths and weaknesses, the things that make you flushed with arousal, and the things that disgust you most, things only a demon would know about other demons seeing as how it's a commonality.

Can you not see the time you're wasting on such a lowly human? Can you not feel my need for you bubbling in my veins? You're meant for another demon, not a contractee of yours, and that demon is me. Open your eyes. You know I speak truth. It may not be what you wish to hear, but it is what it is. Love is not a word in our vocabulary— we do not associate ourselves with such thing— but I can honestly say that what I feel is close enough to it. You hypnotize me with your movements, keeping me entranced as I struggle to maintain a train of thought, trying to focus on something else other than you, but I cannot. You consume my thoughts, my mind, my heart. There isn't a day spent without thinking of you, your face, your voice, your existence. I want you. I _need_ you. I want to be by your side as a friend, not a foe.

And if we do follow through with this Danse Macabre our masters have ordered upon us, I want it to be you who comes out triumphant. I want you to be the one that takes my life, because I could never take yours. You mean to much to me for me to ever kill you, but I wish this could just stop, and we could go on living, living with each other as lovers, mates, whichever you wish to use. I need you, Sebastian. Please let me into your life.

Much love,

Claude Faustus


End file.
